to do anything I asked, if it would make you comfortable. That’s why he went through with the marriage.”
You liar, it was so the two of you could control me, that’s why. He needed to be my husband so he could sign my life away.
The marriage was fraudulent. Paralyzed or no, Meggie never would have gone through with it. Not after what happened in the desert. She barely remembered coming to Costa Rica; the nearest she could piece together, they must have sedated her, put her on an air ambulance, and brought her down under a forged power of attorney. Then there had been some sort of hastily arranged marriage under local laws while she was still in intensive care. She vaguely remembered seeing a government official in the hospital room, then hearing Kaitlyn and Benjamin discussing a marriage license. What a sham.
Tropical Beans had extensive contacts in Costa Rica, but it was still stunning how easily Benjamin and Kaitlyn could subvert the laws down here, as if the country were still a banana republic, under corporate control.
“But if I can take care of you,” Kaitlyn continued, “then I can make your life miserable, too.”
She rose to her feet and put her hand on the crank. The chair creaked lower, and the water rose above Meggie’s navel. Another half-turn and it rose to lap over her breasts.
Meggie was suddenly conscious of how deep the water was. How low did this chair go? There were men living at Colina Nublosa, many of them taller than her. Normally, they would lower Meggie until the water touched her chin, but if they could do the same for the men . . .
Kaitlyn said, “Why didn’t you leave well enough alone? You have everything you need here—it’s a paradise.”
You psychotic monster.
“You know what I’m talking about. Tapping your finger. Trying to blink out messages. That worried me. I thought maybe someone was trying to find you. Only I was wrong. Do you know why? Because nobody is looking for you. Nobody cares. Not your uncle and aunt—they forgot about you long ago. Not your coworkers, either. They think you’re dead. Your old friends, too. Or maybe they do know you’re alive and can’t be bothered. How pathetic is that? The point is, you’re all alone here, with nobody to look after you except me.”
A wild hope rose in Meggie’s breast, because she knew that Kaitlyn was lying. After all this time, there was hope. The pregnant woman—Eric called her Becca—had found Meggie at the hummingbird feeders. Well inside the facility perimeter. And that look Becca gave her was so full of meaning. And what about Eric himself? Someone must be feeding him instructions.
Kaitlyn put her fingers against Meggie’s throat. “Your heart is racing. Usher’s drugs pack a punch. I told him to cut them off, to get them out of your blood, just in case. But what if I tripled it, instead? How about five times? Ten? Would you go into cardiac arrest?”
Where was Meggie’s therapist? And what about the aides? She heard people moving up and down the hall, the slap of rubber-soled slippers on tile, the creak of wheelchairs, as other residents were led into their own therapy rooms. If Meggie could do so much as scream, someone would come.
Kaitlyn took hold of the crank. The chair lowered until the water came up to Meggie’s collarbone. “But there are a million ways to do it. An equipment malfunction in the hydrotherapy baths, for one.”
The crank turned again. A half-inch at a time, the water rose higher on Meggie’s neck. It reached her chin, then slowed, but didn’t stop. It took several more long seconds until it was lapping at her lips. Her mouth was closed. Kaitlyn slowed the descent, leaning forward now to study Meggie with a look of concentration, as if wanting to raise the water level at just the right pace. Moments later, the water touched the bottom of Meggie’s nostrils.
Inside, she writhed and screamed. Terrified, knowing that she was going to die if she couldn’t send a signal
You liar, it was so the two of you could control me, that’s why. He needed to be my husband so he could sign my life away.
The marriage was fraudulent. Paralyzed or no, Meggie never would have gone through with it. Not after what happened in the desert. She barely remembered coming to Costa Rica; the nearest she could piece together, they must have sedated her, put her on an air ambulance, and brought her down under a forged power of attorney. Then there had been some sort of hastily arranged marriage under local laws while she was still in intensive care. She vaguely remembered seeing a government official in the hospital room, then hearing Kaitlyn and Benjamin discussing a marriage license. What a sham.
Tropical Beans had extensive contacts in Costa Rica, but it was still stunning how easily Benjamin and Kaitlyn could subvert the laws down here, as if the country were still a banana republic, under corporate control.
“But if I can take care of you,” Kaitlyn continued, “then I can make your life miserable, too.”
She rose to her feet and put her hand on the crank. The chair creaked lower, and the water rose above Meggie’s navel. Another half-turn and it rose to lap over her breasts.
Meggie was suddenly conscious of how deep the water was. How low did this chair go? There were men living at Colina Nublosa, many of them taller than her. Normally, they would lower Meggie until the water touched her chin, but if they could do the same for the men . . .
Kaitlyn said, “Why didn’t you leave well enough alone? You have everything you need here—it’s a paradise.”
You psychotic monster.
“You know what I’m talking about. Tapping your finger. Trying to blink out messages. That worried me. I thought maybe someone was trying to find you. Only I was wrong. Do you know why? Because nobody is looking for you. Nobody cares. Not your uncle and aunt—they forgot about you long ago. Not your coworkers, either. They think you’re dead. Your old friends, too. Or maybe they do know you’re alive and can’t be bothered. How pathetic is that? The point is, you’re all alone here, with nobody to look after you except me.”
A wild hope rose in Meggie’s breast, because she knew that Kaitlyn was lying. After all this time, there was hope. The pregnant woman—Eric called her Becca—had found Meggie at the hummingbird feeders. Well inside the facility perimeter. And that look Becca gave her was so full of meaning. And what about Eric himself? Someone must be feeding him instructions.
Kaitlyn put her fingers against Meggie’s throat. “Your heart is racing. Usher’s drugs pack a punch. I told him to cut them off, to get them out of your blood, just in case. But what if I tripled it, instead? How about five times? Ten? Would you go into cardiac arrest?”
Where was Meggie’s therapist? And what about the aides? She heard people moving up and down the hall, the slap of rubber-soled slippers on tile, the creak of wheelchairs, as other residents were led into their own therapy rooms. If Meggie could do so much as scream, someone would come.
Kaitlyn took hold of the crank. The chair lowered until the water came up to Meggie’s collarbone. “But there are a million ways to do it. An equipment malfunction in the hydrotherapy baths, for one.”
The crank turned again. A half-inch at a time, the water rose higher on Meggie’s neck. It reached her chin, then slowed, but didn’t stop. It took several more long seconds until it was lapping at her lips. Her mouth was closed. Kaitlyn slowed the descent, leaning forward now to study Meggie with a look of concentration, as if wanting to raise the water level at just the right pace. Moments later, the water touched the bottom of Meggie’s nostrils.
Inside, she writhed and screamed. Terrified, knowing that she was going to die if she couldn’t send a signal
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